The Second Messiah

“Do you really believe the cops can move quickly enough to stop the scroll from disappearing into some private collection? Let’s face it, all they’ve come up with so far is to suspect me.”

“You said I was way off the mark about a criminal gang. Explain.”

“Buddy, if Father Novara was decoding the text, then this has got to go much deeper than just a bunch of murderous thieves. Criminals are interested in cash, not codes or translations. Maybe thieves took it, but if they did they stole it to order. Novara said that the scroll was destined never to be seen, along with the others, which maybe implies it’s bound for a private collector.”

Savage frowned. “Others?”

“Novara suggested he handled other stolen parchments, not just ours.”

“You mean from Qumran?”

“Who knows? In Novara’s study I saw a drawing of a Roman inscription containing animals, monsters, and sylphs. I’ve seen a similar inscription before. I’ve been racking my mind where, but I can’t figure it out.”

Savage raised an eye. “Okay, Inspector Poirot, tell me more.”

Before Jack could reply Pierre reappeared, clutching a newspaper under his arm. “The Antiquities Department just called, Buddy. They want you at their Jerusalem office right away.”

“What for?”

“The guy didn’t say, except it was urgent. You’re to ask for the investigations unit when you arrive.” Pierre winked at Jack. “How’s the patient?”

“Feeling a lot better since the morphine.”

“Wouldn’t we all? Remember, no gymnastics, you don’t want to open up that wound of yours. By the way, have any of you seen the local rag?”

Pierre handed Jack a local newspaper. The headline read:

BRUTAL MURDER MYSTERY AND THEFT AT QUMRAN

KILLER SOUGHT BY POLICE

Pierre said, “It gives all the grisly details of the crime and speculates about black-market thieves.”

Buddy took the newspaper from Jack, scanned the article, and raised an eyebrow. “I’m glad I’m not the only one who thinks so.” He looked up. “If this keeps up, you’re going to have more media crews crawling all over this site like flies over camel dung.”

Buddy handed the paper back to Pierre and patted Jack’s cheek. “We’ll continue this talk when I get back. Meantime, rest, okay?”

Savage disappeared toward the office trailer, following Pierre. Jack watched him go, then turned to Yasmin and shook his head, half smiling. “I don’t think Buddy realizes that he sometimes acts like he’s my old man.”

“He means well, Jack.”

“I know.” Jack looked at his watch. “Listen, Yasmin, I need you to do me a big favor and drive me to Tel Aviv.”

“What for? You’re in no condition to travel.”

“You heard Pierre. I’m on the mend.” Jack held up his cell phone, excitement infecting his voice. “While you and Buddy were talking I made a few calls to Italy. There’s a guy in Rome I intend to talk with who’s an authority on Schonfeld’s code. And there’s someone in the Vatican I’d like to see.”

“About what?”

“I’ll explain later. I called the airport. There’s a one o’clock flight from Tel Aviv to Rome.”

Yasmin said with concern, “Rome? But you heard Buddy.”

“By the time Buddy realizes the call from the Antiquities Department was phoney, I’ll be on my way to the Eternal City.”

“You made the call to Pierre?”

“I had to. I feel guilty about it but if I told Buddy what I was up to, he’d tie me down. I’ll call him when I get to Rome. Besides, if I hang around here and the media heats up and starts mentioning my name, I may not be able to travel anywhere.”

“What about Pasha’s threat?”

Jack’s voice sparked with resolve. “That’s a risk I’m going to have to take. Besides, Rome’s a long way from Syria. How’s anyone going to know?”

“I have the feeling that Pasha’s the kind of psycho who’d make it his business.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be careful. Well, are you going to drive me to Tel Aviv airport or not? I’ll have a quick shower, a change of clothes, and pack an overnight bag. But I’ll need to make a brief stop on the way.”

“Where?”

“At my parents’ grave.”

“Why?”

“I’d like a private moment. Well, are you going to drive me?”

Yasmin’s gaze met his. “On one condition, Jack.”

“What’s that?”

“You take me with you to Rome.”

58

Twenty minutes later Yasmin pulled the Land Cruiser up near the side of the road.

“I won’t be long,” Jack said, and climbed out.

Yasmin watched him cross to the gravestone as a puzzled look erupted on his face. Jack kept his back to her as she saw him kneel and spend a few minutes tidying the grave, tossing away the remains of flowers and smoothing out the gravel chips. Finally, after a private moment of reflection he stood, walked back to the Land Cruiser, and jumped in. He stared out at the Judean desert, as if searching for something or someone.

Yasmin said, “What’s wrong? You look shocked.”

“My parents’ grave was vandalized.”

“You’re kidding!”

“Someone crushed the flowers I’d left there the other day. They were a mess. They stomped them all over the gravel and scattered the stone chips.”

“Why would anyone do that? Unless it’s meant as some kind of warning.”